


Anything

by Gabby



Category: Fast Five (2011)
Genre: Couch Sex, F/M, Office Sex, PWP, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabby/pseuds/Gabby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is there anything you could do if given the chance?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything

"Is there anything you could do if given the chance? Anything you want that you could just take if given the leeway to do it?"

    That is the question that Monica Fuentes utters in the dead of the night while she stands, proud and tall, in her highest heels and staring into the dark, intense gaze of Luke Hobbs' eyes, her nose and chin as defiantly pointed as she could manage considering how hard her heart is pounding and how close she's standing to him.

This question is certainly not what Luke expects when she comes charging into his office - as per usual - like she owns it.

They get into an argument about the whole Torretto dibacle and his inability to proceed with going about finding Owen Shaw and Letty Ortiz.

They go back and forth about the issue for what seems like forever and then finally, breathing hard and pulses racing from verbal sparring, she drops the bomb on him, an infuriatingly knowing glimmer in those beautiful eyes of hers, lips curling up at the corners, and curiosity itched onto her striking features.

They'd known each other for several weeks since Fuentes had been brought in to keep with the Torretto/O'Connor case and it had been a few days since she'd brought him the picture of Letty Ortiz even after she'd been thought dead for the past year.

"Excuse me?" He has no clue what she's trying to do and to be honest, the inquiry catches him off-guard enough to warrant more of her smile.

"You heard me. You're always about the _job this_ and _job that_. Do you ever just... want something? Something you want that has nothing to do with the job?" She asks him again, stepping closer to him, his nostrils flaring as her perfume hits him full-force, the scent of something woodsy and spicy-sweet clouding his senses.

Now, _this_. _This_ is a problem.

Despite the fact that they disagree on mostly every little thing - and that she is, without a doubt, _the_ single most stubborn woman he's ever met - Hobbs isn't stupid and not even _a little_ bit blind to her allure.

It's her fault, really, for walking around in those tight skirts and heels that showcase her legs, giving them length enough to put her in league with his mouth.

It's stupid how she affects him. Many a times he's had to pray for a cold shower and a good five minutes to rub one out after they have one of their meetings, her scent still lingering in the air around his office and the image of filling that smart mouth of hers with every inch of his cock super-glued to his brain.

But, he likes her a bit, too. She seems like a good cop, never cowing to his authority nor making herself look more superior to him.

She's a sharp tongue, for sure.

But, a hot piece of ass to go with it.

"That's not of your business." He responses after a beat, trying to stare her down even as his whole body starts tightening and his insides start sweating along with it, a little unnerved that what he's thinking could possibly be written on his face.

"No." She says back, that seductive grin still in place. "No, I think it is." And then, she's leaning up and onto his mouth, pressing her lips on his with a quickness that startles him and his hands immediately fly up to grasp at her shoulders.

She takes that move as encouragement and he groans as her hands slide up his chest and over his broad shoulders, the gesture bringing her closer still, his fast growing erection pressing onto her stomach.

He doesn't even realize that he's not kissing her back until he does after she nips his bottom lip, the _there-and-gone_ sting prompting a rumbling, guttural sound from deep in his chest and his arms to go around her, hauling her to him with a hard swoop, the taste of her on his tongue causing a thrill to go through him.

She moans and yeah, it tugs his dick to full-monty and from the on, it's a blur as to how they go from standing over to his desk but, the next thing he knows, she's pushing at his shoulders and he reluctantly breaks their lips apart and he finds that he's hovering her, her skirt bunched over her hips, and his large hard-on trapped between the heat of her thighs.

"What?" He barks harshly because _what the fuck?_

She points behind him and he thinks he's never seen her look so sheepish. Ever. "Your door's still open."

He stares at her and after a long while, he leaves her, stomping to his door as fast as he can, considering the sizable problem threatening to burst through his zipper.

Once the problem is dealt with, he turns around.

And stops.

Monica Fuentes is perched on his desk, her skirt pulled up and revealing her thighs, and her hands quickly removing her panties with a little wiggle of her body until they slip over her still intact heels.

 _Black lace._ His mind murmurs in approval.

"Damn." He says without thinking and then she's looking up at him, gorgeous and ready to be fucked, and with that, he's back to where he wants to be, lifting her with ease, her legs wrapping around his waist and before he knows what's happening, they are on his office couch, tongues tangling and bodies writhing.

Luke starts thinking - through the thick arousal surrounding them - that he should stop this. Take a minute. Slam a professional foot stool on what is happening right now.

He doesn't normally think this much during sex - or escapades that are _leading_ to it - he just does it.

But, Monica chooses that very moment to grind down on his lap and the movement serves to remind of exactly how granite hard he is at this this point and that there is no barrier of any kind that is keeping him from her with the exception of a bursting zipper and underwear that could easily be pulled down to get at his goal and _Jesus_ , he could already _feel_ how wet she is!

Again, as if she's somehow reading his mind, her hands are _there_ , unzipping and untugging him like a pro before pawing at his shirt, which he helps with by pulling it over his head and he growls when her palms smooth over his pecs and abdomen and over his arms and then down again before they're back onto his pants and beneathe them and for the first time in a long time, he feels a woman's touch on his cock, the sensation jolting against her and thrusting him into her hand.

"Fuck!" He shouts, speaking for the first time since all this started, sweat busting out over his skin.

And before he could think or make any other move, there's a shuffle and his dick is suddenly free to the cool air only to be replaced by complete and utter _warmth_ and _wetness_ and a _tightness_ that feels _soo_ good it makes him light-headed, a gasp above him telling him she's feeling it, too.

He looks up at her, his arms around her lower back, her eyes blinking rapidly and he has a slight realization. "You good?" He hears himself ask hoarsely, his Adam's Apple jumping like a ping-pong in his throat at the feel of her, even though he knows that he's only half-way in and has a bit of a ways to go and it wouldn't really be the first time.

She looks down at him, the clouds in her eyes evaporating, and after a long beat, smiles mischieviously, answering in a breathy outward sly. "I don't know. What do you think?" And then, in one fell swoop, slams herself all the way down.

"Holy shit."

"Yes." And when she rocks her hips, the embarrassing sound that rips from his throat is akin to a wounded bear, untelligible to him and his hands grab her hips so hard that he knows that there will be bruises on her skin for at least a few days.

She fucks herself on him hard, rough. Just the way he likes it. And after a few minutes of allowing her some control, he can't take no more and hauls her across the couch and under him this time, pulling her hair to bare her neck to him, giving him leeway to bite across her throat and thrusting as far inside her as possible, her moans rapidly turning into screams before he muffles the sounds with his mouth, kissing her deeply, turning the contact into something incredibly, profoundly _dirty_ , as far what they are doing is concerned.

He wants this. He wants this tight, slick heat all around him. To get down and get a taste of the lusciousness between those thighs. To move into her mouth as she swallows him whole.

But, he'll settle for this now.

Then, suddenly she's coming, climaxing, tightening, clenching onto his dick like a vice, crying out and shouting his name like a fantasy come true.

And as he follows shortly after, a yell leaving him with the heft of his release, Luke Hobbs thinks this: _Well, there goes her fucking answer._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this all-around, PWP personified tale. I sure enjoyed writing it! ;)


End file.
